The color of Fear
by OMightyWifeofShinigami
Summary: Another little creepy Farfie fic by me. Farfie pretty much tortures a nameless soul and learns a few things about himself, Enjoy


The color of Fear  


  
Disclaimer: Nope don't own it  
Warnings: Lots and lots of blood, cutting, hey it's Farfie, why'd you expect, death and torture of another human being.  
Rated: PG-13 Just to be on the safe side  
Archive: Here, that's about it. If any one wants to, they can put my story up on their site, as long as you e-mail and tell me, so I can visit and check it out.   
NOTES: Um, it was late again (1:54 am) and I was in a Farfelloish mood again o_O; I wanted to break out my goody-ness writing and be creepy again  
Feedback: Most definitely welcome, flames will be looked at, laughed at, and kept for those long cold winter nights with Farfie (Gets that far away look) *Giggles then screams *  
  
A little note from the author. I scared the crud out of Rae when she read my story Red. She called my a freak and repeatedly pointed at me. I was never so happy for that kind of a compliment from her. Hope to get another one with this *Evil laughter*  
  
Have you ever seen the color of fear. There are all shades but it comes down to one. Red. Bright deep rich, the color of blood. Everyone bleeds and everyone dies. A particular favorite of mine took a long time to die, although when she did she was covered in fear.  
  
I never knew her name, but she talked a lot of her family. Always telling me that they would miss her. I liked listening to her voice, especially when she begged for her life and when she screamed. Who knew angels could scream in pain. She was an angel that he loved and I love angels. I love angels when they're covered in crimson. I love angels when they die.  
  
She was beautiful when her lips were red from her blood. I brought my knife along her arm, raising a trickle of red. I bring my lips to it and taste the metallicness of it. It spreads along my tongue and I can't help but shiver. It's like a drug to me and I can't get enough of it. The angel whimpers and tries to fight me but I hit her across the face and she stills for a while, silver tears running down her porcelain skin.  
  
I stop for a moment, watching the clear liquid gather at her long black lashes then spill from the tightly closed earthen eyes. Intrigued at the new liquid, I bring my knife down and press it to her cheek, cutting her in the process of gathering the dew drop on the end of my blade.   
  
I bring the blade to eye level, watching the tiny drop shiver when I moved. It clung to the metal, slipping away when I titled my knife up, it dropped off the edge and onto my hand. I can't help but jerk at the soft touch. The clear drop seeps into my skin and I wipe my hand on the pants leg almost frantically.   
  
I can almost feel the innocence of the tear, trying to get into me. It's spreading a warmth along my hand and it wont stop. I curse loudly, making the forgotten woman beneath me winch. I bend down and stare at her face again, the silver drops are still there, clinging to her lashes. My hand still itches and I rake the knife I have across my pale skin, bathing where the tear was in red. It's gone now, I don't feel anything.  
  
Satisfied I return to the tear stains and in doing so the crimson running down my hand drips onto her face, mixing with the silver tears. I pause, watching. The scarlet swims within the tear, swirling around tying to find it's way out but forever caught in the little drop. I'm drawn to it and I'm almost nose to nose with the woman, my one golden eye staring intently at the blood and tear war.  
  
It was then the earthen eyes opened and widened. She was surprised that I was so close and she hadn't heard me. She doesn't move, freezes like an helpless creature caught in a bright light, only her lips tremble ever so slightly but I'm looking at her eyes and the tears that form in them. I see fear, hatred, and accusation, the tears spill again and they blur my reflection. I see the emotions staring back at me in a glaring rage and I realize the emotions I see are not coming from the earthen orbs but from the reflection of me.  
  
I don't know why but I reacted, jerking back, my knife moving ahead of me. I didn't close my eye and I watched her face as my my blade sunk into her. She arched slightly causing the crimson liquid to burst free from the wound in her pale neck. It gushes over my hands and knife, bathing them in blood. The woman shudders as her life drains away from her, her mouth parted in a watery gasp and a trickle of red flows from her lips, staining them.  
  
The earthen gaze fades, losing what little sparkle they had. They don't close but instead stay open as she shudders one last time, her breath slipping past her clenched teeth. She's gone. Her soul has departed from her earth body. The blood is beginning to stop but the silver tears keep coming. Mixing with the scarlet water. I remove my blade from her neck and bring it to my lips, I pause.   
  
Instead I bring my head back down to watch the silver running from her eyes. They stare at me unmoving, the last emotion etched into them like fire and I run fingers over them, closing them. Scarlet red streaks, run across them where my bloody fingertips were. The tears are gone. And so is the fear.  
  
I lean in and brush my pale lips across her closed eyes. I taste the blood and tears, sweet and salty. A strange mix but they go together as if they were made for each for one another. I can taste the last bit of fear of the nameless woman before I stand, wiping the bloody knife off my pants. I stare down at the unmoving body, even though I feel there is someone else in the room, I know who it is.  
  
The orange haired German enters my room swiftly and silently, I didn't even hear the door open. It's as if he can walk through walls the way he moves. He stands beside me and looks down at the woman. He tries to invade my mind with questions of where and why but all he gets is nothing. I have nothing to say to the mind reader and he smiles, knowing. Knowing what I don't want to say even though I haven't even thought it.  
  
I do answer one of his questions, one that he speaks outloud and I surprise him with my answer. I tell him, nothing more then a reflection of my former self. He smiles again and a part of me want to cut it from his face with my knife and other wants to smile with him. Instead I tell him to dispose of the fallen angel. I need time to myself for a while, I need to see if I can bleed the color of fear from a tear.


End file.
